


Assembly

by oggmonster



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Angst, Angst Dad, Character Study, Family Feels, Phase Three (Gorillaz), i am shooketh, noodle is presumed dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 02:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11004069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oggmonster/pseuds/oggmonster
Summary: In which Cyborg Noodle is born, and Murdoc is an angsty dad.After all, his little girl won't be coming back.





	Assembly

Murdoc Niccals didn’t feel attachment towards anything, thank you very much. Never to things and certainly not to places. All were just a means to an end, a backdrop to find something fun to do. Kong Studios did certainly used to have a lot to do and the right people to do it with, the mess constantly growing and records of every genre imaginable echoing from the various rooms. He had been alone here for a few months now. The world was quiet and very, very gross. Not that he or his band mates had ever bothered to clean while living here, but at least things had a tendency to move around before. Murdoc couldn’t wait to leave.

He did get on rare occasion attached to people, though he would sock you in the jaw before you got him to admit it. Sure, he and his band mates had had their … disagreements. Often loud, sometimes a touch violent, or even enough to part ways for matter of years. He had never doubted they would come back, the music was too damn good.

They wouldn’t come back this time.  
Noodle couldn’t ever come back.

The place was tough to be in, and as soon as he was done Murdoc had little interest in ever coming back. He had already made a note of the extensive gasoline supply in the garage. But life went on, and there was music to be made and old friends to need convincing to do it. Murdoc was excited to undertake a new adventure, and having made his rounds for the country’s shops and junkyards, he would make certain he would _not_ leave alone.

It would take a miracle. But then again, he was very much bored.

Barely three sleepless weeks and a comical amount of thunderstorms later, and it was as good as alive. It really _was_ a miracle. At nearly five feet tall, the human resemblance of this the cyborg was nearly uncanny. Most importantly, it had easily taken to handling a guitar and a riffle, the programming in bits and pieces from these new fangled virtual reality games kids seemed to really take to these days (Guitar Modern Warfare Hero, something like that). It seemed to make for good company, with the little he had found of Noodle’s DNA easily lending itself into the perfect shade of artificial skin and hair. It had come together surprisingly easy. He suspected it had had something to do with Noodle’s unusual cybernetic upbringing herself.

Damn, he was good at this.

If he’d known better, perhaps he would have taken over the world with androids instead of albums. But hey, this was splitting the difference, really. Anyone could do it with the proper textbook. Murdoc couldn’t help but smile as he thumbed through the checklist on the final pages of “ _Playing God for Dummies: CyberMechanic Theory_ ” , and confidently twisted out the power source feeding into the robot's back.

“Wouldja look at that. I believe you’ve actually made me finish a book!”

No response. _She_ would have laughed at that.

“You sure are looking stellar. Makes me wonder why I ever bothered sending for any actual guitarist anyway, ey?”

Still nothing. The eyes, or rather the little flashlights and bits of old gin bottle glass and rhinestones, stared at him blankly. Not much for softness or any attempt at expression, but intimidating enough should that be of use. They were purely cosmetic, it didn’t need them to see anyway. Something or other about a receptor in the chest emitting and reinterpreting sound waves? That part was beyond him, something he was glad those brainiacs at Oxford had generously … er … involuntarily donated to his cause.

Whatever, he was certainly going to get more use out of it than those graduate students ever would have. The pretty face was proudly all his doing though, although Murdoc was convinced the robot could lose its head and still function.

“Well, aren’t you going to answer me?”

That was the last crucial bit. The voice module was in place, he was sure of it. It had been in place for weeks. Murdoc's voice echoed through the empty building. It made him feel increasingly pathetic.

“I. Said. TALK.” He drove his first into its cheek.

The robot’s head twisted away, the head spinning an inhuman degree backwards. Murdoc yelped in pain, grabbing the wrist of his increasingly red hand.

The head slowly rotated back towards him, cheek unmarked and expression blank. Miracle of modern engineering indeed. He tried to remember if he had taught it to brandish a screwdriver yet.

The cyborg’s stare focused on him. The head cocked to the side. “You hit me. Why.”

The voice was more childlike than he expected, with a little touch of reverb. Excellent, these vocals wouldn’t even need additional mastering. Maybe with some more tinkering, it could even harmonize with itself. Perhaps he would finish when they reached the island. In any case, it didn’t certainly didn’t sound like the voice could be angry at him, simply curious. Not that we would ever want it to be anything else.

Murdoc swore at his increasingly red knuckles. “Because … well, because the world is a rotten place, my dear. It’s dangerous. I want you to know that things will try to hurt you. And you will protect yourself,” he rubbed at his aching hand. “And me, of course.”

The cyborg slowly blinked. There was a split second delay between the two eyes.  
“Understood. Like you. You will hurt me.”

The voice was still monotonous. The sentiment seemed gentle, even understanding. Murdoc struggled to breathe steadily. She would never say anything like that to him, she was far too reserved. But perhaps Noodle would mean it. She certainly would be more than justified now. Not that it seemed like she had the chance to tell him anything again.

He extended his hand towards the head, slowly this time, feeling a sudden urge to comfort the robot girl. Not that it mattered, nothing seemed to get a true reaction from it. Still, he couldn’t resist the urge to go through the motions.

“No, my dear. Not like that. That was just to show you, see? Just a little demonstration. I’d never want to hurt you. It’s the world we gotta go up against. ”

He spoke gentler than he had in years as his fingers ran through the silky hair, rearranging messy bangs over the eyes.It looked more like Noodle this way anyway.

“Understand?”

It nodded.

He stepped back and squinted at the creation. The face certainly had come together, especially now that he didn’t have to look directly into those eyes. The hands were less unsettling that the fingers didn’t bend backwards, now rather adorable as they drummed against the table. The problem was the body. Having had no reason to sculpt details into her torso, the chest had remained bare, flat, polished steel. A small latch protruded from where the belly button should have been, prime for easy access to the mechanics in her torso. It certainly wasn’t vulgar, but it seemed so … wrong to look at. Unfinished.

  


It had been months since he had opened the door to _her_ room, and the dust made his nose itch. He didn’t bother to turn the light on, instead blindingly shuffling past the fallen paper lanterns and still unmade bed to the pile of discarded clothes in the corner, grabbing whatever was on top.

He examined his choice on the way out. Long sleeves, too dark for stains, military cut, just about the right size. This would do.

The cyber girl hadn’t moved from her place on the counter when Murdoc returned. He wrapped the coat around her shoulders. It hung a little loose on the body. Made it softer.

“ This was her’s, a’right? You be careful with it. Here, raise your arms a bit, would’ya ?”

The robot obediently lifted her arms. Murdoc stepped behind her and fitted the rubber hands through the sleeves. It seemed rather infantile to adjust the sleeves and collar just so, but then again there was no point in teaching it how to dress itself. Murdoc rested his head on the stiff shoulder as he fastened the buttons. Everything seemed to have fallen into place. It seemed uncanny now.

The head bent down and blankly stared at the garment. “... her’s?” it questioned.

He felt something wet run down his cheeks. He shut his eyes tight as he fumbled with the last of the buttons.

"Yours. It's yours."

  



End file.
